There are a million and one things I could say about my birthday, and yet, I cannot write them into pretty poetry prose no matter how much I want to.
So I’ll say it all plainly instead.
Thank you to one of my closest friends for one of the best birthdays yet. You went above and beyond, and I’m still disgustingly cheerful about it the day after. I have said “thank you” a bunch of times but only because I want to emphasize how much your surprise plan meant to me. You are the best partner in crime, the Clyde to my Bonnie. And I will always look back fondly on us wearing 3D glasses over our glasses (double glasses, we’re such nerds) and singing along to Avril Lavigne on the way home.
I am now twenty-years-old, and I don’t feel any different. I didn’t expect to, but it’s a rather momentous age (the end to my teen years). Does my age now make you feel any less “weird” and “creepy”, Guy-I-dated? I still think your reasoning for totally disappearing was pretty lame. But I suppose it’s a bit of my own fault – I guess I shouldn’t go for them older boys. But dating aside, I am that much closer to graduating college and needing to get started on my career. I am an adult, and yet, I do not know if I am ready to be a real adult in the real world. It’s not like college courses teach you how to pay bills and do taxes and vote and whatnot.
I am still so young, but I have lived 20 years. Have I accomplished enough? Will I continue to succeed? Will I find what I’m looking for? Here’s to a year of uncertainty, a year until I can “truly celebrate” my birthday.